From Paris With Love

There were so many incredible things that happened over the weekend, but none more devastating than the attack on our innocence. Terror took front stage on Friday and our innocence was the victim. But rest assured good prevails, as it always does because evil has no place amongst our existence. Yet we are changed as a world, and we now know that this cowardice act of terror will NOT, can NOT, become commonplace. The lives of the innocent that were lost will never be forgotten and this war we are fighting will somehow bring justice to a broken hearted world.

The words of the victims/survivors tell a story of courage, love and triumph for life; not at all what the hate that entered into the city of Paris on Friday night intended.
I came across this today when I was going to post something different entirely-and I am humbled by this young girl's resolve and by her courage.

This is the Facebook post of  Isobel Bowdery, a young college student who attended the rock and roll show at the Bataclan Theatre in Paris on Friday night:

"you never think it will happen to you. It was just a friday night at a rock show. the atmosphere was so happy and everyone was dancing and smiling. and then when the men came through the front entrance and began the shooting, we naiively believed it was all part of the show. It wasn’t just a terrorist attack, it was a massacre. Dozens of people were shot right infront of me. Pools of blood filled the floor. Cries of grown men who held their girlfriends dead bodies pierced the small music venue. Futures demolished, families heartbroken. in an instant. Shocked and alone, I pretended to be dead for over an hour, lying among people who could see their loved ones motionless.. Holding my breath, trying to not move, not cry – not giving those men the fear they longed to see. I was incredibly lucky to survive. But so many didn’t. The people who had been there for the exact same reasons as I – to have a fun friday night were innocent. This world is cruel. And acts like this are suppose to highlight the depravity of humans and the images of those men circuling us like vultures will haunt me for the rest of my life. The way they meticoulsy aimed at shot people around the standing area i was in the centre of without any consideration for human life. It didn’t feel real. i expected any moment for someone to say it was just a nightmare. But being a survivor of this horror lets me able to shed light on the heroes. To the man who reassured me and put his life on line to try and cover my brain whilst i whimpered, to the couple whose last words of love kept me believing the good in the world, to the police who succeded in rescuing hundreds of people, to the complete strangers who picked me up from the road and consoled me during the 45 minutes I truly believed the boy i loved was dead, to the injured man who i had mistaken for him and then on my recognition that he was not Amaury, held me and told me everything was going to be fine despite being all alone and scared himself, to the woman who opened her doors to the survivors, to the friend who offered me shelter and went out to buy new clothes so i wouldnt have to wear this blood stained top, to all of you who have sent caring messages of support – you make me believe this world has the potential to be better. to never let this happen again. but most of this is to the 80 people who were murdered inside that venue, who weren’t as lucky, who didnt get to wake up today and to all the pain that their friends and families are going through. I am so sorry. There’s nothing that will fix the pain. I feel priviledged to be there for their last breaths. And truly beliving that I would join them, I promise that their last thoughts were not on the animals who caused all this. It was thinking of the people they loved. As i lay down in the blood of strangers and waiting for my bullet to end my mere 22 years, I envisioned every face that I have ever loved and whispered I love you. over and over again. reflecting on the highlights of my life. Wishing that those i love knew just how much, wishing that they knew that no matter what happened to me, to keep belieivng in the good in people. to not let those men win. Last night, the lives of many were forever changed and it is up to us to be better people. to live lives that the innocent victims of this tragedy dreamt about but sadly will now never be able to fulfil. RIP angels. You will never be forgotten."

I Was Just Thinking...

I saw this picture of Paris Jackson today and it got me to thinking about Michael Jackson's kids and where they are now. You know how a picture or a story gets you thinking about people that really aren't in your realm of life, yet you can't stop wondering what happened to them?

A quick internet check on Paris finds the 17 year-old beauty seemingly happy and attending a private boarding school in Utah. She certainly has turned out to be a beautiful young lady, and social media pictures show her to be dating.

Her 18 year-old boyfriend, Chester Castellaw, is a soccer player for the Real So Cal youth soccer club. When not away at school she resides with her grandmother, Katherine Jackson and cousin Tito in California and her two brothers. She seems to be doing much better since her reported suicide attempt when she was 15.

Her brother Prince Michael also seems to be faring well.

The Loyola Marymount student, 18, is focusing his studies on a career in film and television. Reportedly a great student, Prince is said to be committed to his studies and focused on receiving a degree. Good thing because as the heir of his father's vast estate, he will need a good head on his shoulders to navigate all that entails. Talk about pressure. Let's keep our fingers crossed he stays the course. I think it would be a great testament to his late father.

Last, is their brother, Prince Michael II, "Blanket" who is 13.

Reportedly bullied for his name "Blanket", he changed his name to Bigi Jackson. Blanket, as he was known by his family, is said to be quiet, funny, respectful and helpful to others. Here's hoping he can live a somewhat normal teen aged life.

After reading and reporting all of that, I am left to wonder why I care? But strangely I do care-Michael Jackson's children were the young and  innocents caught in the madness that was his life. I could be wrong, but it looks like his mother is doing a good job raising his children. And as I said before, it would be nice if despite it all, the 3 kids turned out to be decent, happy and successful adults. As a parent, that's the best you can hope for.

Can't Keep A Good Man Down

Ever since my beloved Amos went to heaven last November, I have noticed a change in Buddy. I expected him to be affected, but the diffence in Buddy was one that I had not anticipated. I worried that Buddy would be depressed like he had when his beloved sister Jingles died. I worried that he would be lonely being the only dog in the household and even entertained bringing a puppy into the family. Interestingly enough, none of those worries were even close to what has happened with Buddy. 

Buddy's life was one of a pack. He spent his early days with his sister Jingle then two years later, Amos, aka. Boss Man was added to the pack. Their days comprised of loving each other and bonding, but It was clear early on that Amos was the Captian and that he ran a tight ship. Buddy had Jingles, who he loved her like a sister, and it was almost as if the two of them aligned to commiserate about Boss Man and his regime. Then Jingles was called to heaven way too early and Buddy was devastated. He layed around lethargicly and uncharacteristicly left food in his supper dish. Boss Man showed no evidence of emotion but stayed close to Buddy, and then there were 2...

It was life as usual for the boys and they had what seemed like a happy existence. There was definitely  a balance between them. When the altercations became physical, which they did occasionally, Buddy was always the victor due to his obvious size advantage. Still Boss Man never let him forget he was boss. There were rare occasions that they slept in the same doggie bed, which almost always prompted a photo to document as proof. They loved each other, it was obvious, just in their own way. Amos was advanced in age-we never knew exactly because My Guy rescued him-we estimated his age to be around 17 years old. We knew his day would eventually come. Come it did, and we worried how Buddy would react. 

The first few days without Amos, he seemed fine, still we waited. Nothing. There was no evidence of depression and dare I say it, Buddy had a new bounce in his step! Yes, Buddy is now The Man and he is loving it! Evidenced during treat giving, Buddy no longer has to quickly scarf it down so that Amos won't come over, snap, growl and confiscate it for his own. Nights are easier because Buddy can now sit on the end of the sofa comfortably without vicious growling and sharp teeth showing. Meal time has now become a joy without the threat of violence. Buddy has come into his own and now that the kids are gone, the empty nest is all about him and he is loving it. 

They say souls come into our world for a reason, and Buddy and Amos were destined to share their lives. Now Buddy is last man standing, left to be his own man alone and seemingly happy to be doing it on his own terms. 

My Heart...

To a better place, you have gone. I tell myself quietly.

Your life was full and important to us all and you let us in and never let go.
You were saved for a reason, you just didn't know it at the time.
We didn't know it either, how you would save us too.

How the quiet times on the sofa together, side by side,were important food for both our souls. How you loved me, protected me and let me know that just being close made you happy. That being part of the family was your destiny and you cherished that.

Yes, you were the Man of the house. Loyal and most loving, my heart is broken today,but I take comfort knowing that she will be there waiting for you.
Rest easy, my love..

Into God's Hands

I lost a member of my family yesterday.
While this woman was not very close to us in recent history, she was at one point someone we cared about.

There was no personal reason for our loss of contact in recent years. No horrible tragedies or awful disagreements, but only that she became the victim of neglect and she didn't deserve it. She became a forgotten, inconvenient soul in the end and for that I am sad. Her life was a cautionary tale and I wonder if in her advanced years, sort of gave up. Falling victim to the cancer we surprisingly found out about in the end. There will be no memorial, no services or finger sandwiches and coffee with memories. Just silence for her soul.

I speak of her today so that she may know that her memory lives on in me. And the love I once felt for a family member meant something. Love is real, but never logical. Love is the only thing we know to be true.

I want you all to know that she mattered and that she was loved and anyone to else that reads this too. So she will know someone cared.

"Can We Talk?"

I'm devastated by yesterday's news of Joan Rivers passing.

She was one of a kind, an icon, a pioneer in the industry. She will be mourned and missed by all who loved and knew her. And I was one of them. Joan went before she possibly should have, the result of a routine throat surgery she probably didn't need. Tragic. I was fortunate enough to see her in person last November and I'm glad I did. She was spectacular! Pure Joan, uncensored and politically incorrect but nonetheless hilarious and heartwarming. I am a huge fan and today I'm sad she has left us.

The piece below debuted here on August 21, 2012. I was already Joan Rivers fan but gained a new found love/appreciation for the woman that was Joan Rivers when I watched the 2010 documentary on Joan, "Piece of Work".

The Joan Ranger's salute you. RIP Joan.

She Hates Everybody

I'm a Joan Ranger.

I love Joan Rivers. Yes, I know, she's crass, mean, insulting and mostly inappropriate, but she's hilarious and she always leaves me laughing.

She is currently starring in two shows; one reality show on WE TV called "Joan and Melissa" and "Fashion Police" on E.

On "Fashion Police", she is incredibly funny yet politically incorrect in her impeccably timed Joan Rivers way. She commands the floor with her panel of fashion "experts", but make no mistake, Joan is the show. It's well worth the watch.

I became a fan a couple of years ago when I came across the documentary "Joan Rivers. Piece of Work." It released in Jan 2010 and was filmed during one year of Joan Rivers life when she was 75 years old. It followed her through her crazy, schedule of appearances and performances.

This lady works. I gained an incredible appreciation for her work ethic. She was non-stop. Joan makes no bones about the fact that she has to work to support her opulent lifestyle, yet she admits to needing the work to boost her self esteem.

Notorious for her abuse of plastic surgery, Joan admits quite openly to being very insecure. She does it all too. At the time of filming, Joan was still working every day, attending several personal appearances, doing comedy shows and regularly traveling across country. A schedule that would have made even a younger person, question why. Yet Joan seemed to revel in it, and she hardly complained.

This lady is no dumb blonde, either. Fresh off her "Celebrity Apprentice" win in 2009, "Piece of Work" showed Rivers the business woman for the shrewd artisan she is. Her jewelry line is one of QVC's most successful sellers to date and that is just one of the many projects that Joan is attached to.

I hope to God that when I am her age, I have half the stamina that she has. And that's not something you can buy from a plastic surgeon. You gotta have hutzpah! Forbes has estimated Rivers net worth at $290 million, and that's a hell of a lot of hutzpah.

Say what you will about her.
She's probably already heard it and incorporated it into her act and made it ten times funnier. 

"If Women Ruled The World, We Wouldn't Have War. We Would Have Intense Negotiations Every 28 Days."

Watch this and tell me if it doesn't make you sad today. Gone too soon.

RIP Robin..

I Was Just Thinking....

It was twenty years ago today....June 17th 1994.

It will always be a "where were you?" moment. And when you think about it..it was nothing short of crazy. Every time you see a white Ford Bronco, you have to think of that historic moment. ( the Ford Motor Company discontinued the line of cars two years after that infamous day) All the major networks cut into their regular programming to give credence to the madness that was unfolding in front of us. And the birth of a Kardashian on reality TV happened...

The prime suspect in his former wife's brutal murder 5 days earlier, OJ Simpson was expected to turn himself in to police. Instead he decided to run. We all know how that turned out. He and his friend Al Cowlings took to the California freeway. Cowlings was driving and OJ was supposedly in the back with a gun to his head. It was surreal how the events unfolded that day. We watched with rapt attention, an estimated 95 million of us, as Robert Kardashian, the now deceased patriarch of those crazy Kardashians, read a note on live television that OJ penned for "the people". Today it would be the equivalent to "going viral" except we didn't have as many social media outlets as we do today. It was like a live TV show. It was meant to be a suicide note, but Simpson was too cowardice to take his own life. Instead he turned all of ours into a circus.

At that moment we all knew the truth. He did it. He killed her and Ron Goldman in a brutal and unbelievably violent manner. He was the culprit and he was running. The chase began when police charged Simpson on June 17th with two counts of murder with special circumstance. Simpson was supposed to surrender himself, but he does not. Instead he remains at large and at 6:45PM police are tipped off to a white Bronco, reportedly belonging to Al Cowlings, on the freeway with Simpson in the back with a gun. The police then pursue the Bronco on a 60 MPH chase through LA which ends up at Simpson's Brentwood mansion at 8PM.

And we watched it happen in real time...

I was sitting in my condo with some friends playing cards. The TV was on, but we weren't really watching it, when the news broke in with the story. We were riveted. It was an amazing thing, and I remember thinking we are watching history in the making.

 Because if the glove don't fit, karma won't acquit! It will chase you down a California freeway or follow you around for the rest of your life until it catches your ass!
Karma has a really great way of catching up with you, doesn't it?

Black Mass

The great Johnny Depp is playing Whitey.

The notorious Boston gangster, Whitey Bulger, that is, and the people of Boston are curious. Beside Ben or Matt, I don't think there was a better choice for the elusive gangster. Depp is playing the title role in the movie adaptation of  the book "Black Mass: The True Story of the Unholy alliance between the FBI and the Irish Mob", written by Boston Globe scribes Dick Lehr and Gerard O'Neill. 

If you live in Boston, like I do, you would be hard pressed to find someone who does not know the story of the crimes committed by the Irish Mob for decades and the FBI men who allowed them the breathing room to commit them. It's an interesting story, and a book that I read with rapt attention.  Filming is going on now, and Johhny Depp filmed a scene yesterday In East Boston where he eerily resembled the aging, now incarcerated, legendary Boston gangster.  The scene, shot on the same street where a murder occurred just last week, was shot-quite literally-in Irish Mob fashion. According to the Boston Herald:

"in the scene shot yesterday Whitey/Depp and a couple of his henchmen walk with an unsuspecting victim near the water in Eastie. While Whitey shakes the man’s hand, he is whacked from behind by one of the aforementioned thugs. Whitey walks away and gazes out at the Tobin Bridge while the other two drag the body away."

Hollywood's take on this unbelievable story should be very interesting and the casting of Depp is brilliant. No one can take a character and make him believable, possibly even likeable, like Johnny can. (his portrayal of George Jung in "Blow" still remains one of my favorite Depp roles) Its a true crime story for the crime story lovers in all of us."Black Mass" is a best seller written by two Boston Globe writers who worked the beat and covered the Irish Mob during their horrific reign over the city which ends with the disappearance of Bulger in 1994 when he was tipped off by his FBI handler John Connley that the Feds were going to indite him on racketeering charges. He remained on the lamb for 16 years before being arrested in Santa Barbara, California in mid 2011. Bulger, at one time, was the FBI's most wanted man, right next to Osama Bin Laden.

Now he's getting the Holllywood treatment, albeit on screen only, but I wonder what old Whitey thinks of the casting of himself in his true crime story. These stories are the stuff that legends are made of. Lots of people died at the hands of these hardened criminals, and if justice is to be served, the families of the victims of the horrible crimes will share in the spoils of the movie's box office success. As for the real life cast of characters? Karma has taken care of them. And the rest is up to their maker, when they day comes for them to meet him. 

La Vida Loca

Hey Bloggers! It's Friday and today I will attend the wake of a way too young member of my extended hometown family. The news of her passing threw us all for a loop here because she was/is each and everyone of us. Mother, daughter, woman wife, friend and confidant. I'm not going to say much more about it. What I will say it was the C word and I hate the C word. A lot.

I have chosen to live life and celebrate that I am living, breathing and trying to be healthy. I am celebrating that I am happy, in her honor.
I know this is so cliched and over played but I choose to keep it as my weekend mantra:

Happy weekend bloggers! Be happy we are alive!

A Little Nonsense Now And Then Is Relished By The Best Of Men..

Got some bad news yesterday and I feel like laughter would be the best medicine today...

Tragic, Useless And Unbelievable

I was just thinking....
about the tragedy of Jennifer Martel's death.

Who is Jennifer Martel, you ask?
She was the girlfriend of Jared Remy, who Remy stabbed and murdered, while others watched, in the doorway of the Waltham, MA apartment they shared with their 4 year-old daughter last summer. I documented the tragedy when it unfolded HERE.  

A new Boston Globe article by Eric Moskowitz published on Saturday brings this tragedy back into the news, and paints a horrifying and startling picture of violence, entitlement, drug abuse and system abuse.

•  How did this perpetrator get away with his history of violence against women for as long as he did? 
• This monster had years-long rap sheets, ladled with violence, abuse, restraining orders(which he continually violated) and death threats, yet he got off with no more than probation and the promise of therapy and good behavior, then released to his parent's custody time and time again.
• In Moskowitz's piece he clearly states that Remy got off SIX times on charges of violence against women. He then notes that it is unusual for a documented violent offender to get off on charges twice-let alone six times. Remy seems to be the record holder. 

Again, I have to ask how this could have happened? 

And in my backyard! Remy grew up in my town, which is the starting point of his long rap sheet, and continues to the next town over from us-where I would attend criminal court too (If I had to). I know all those cops. Does this mean that I somehow share in the blame? 

Reading this article brings to mind so many emotions. Yes, something certainly was amiss here. Jared father, Jerry Remy is a beloved, hometown Red Sox sports figure, whoes influence in our town was greatly underestimated by us all. That much is evident by Moskowitz's article. I just learned that MY TAX DOLLARS paid for Jared schooling at a local school well known for emotionally troubled teens, because he couldn't make it at our public school. I then read about the intimidation and the chaos he created while he was there, supposedly being "encouraged and nourished" into becoming a contributing member of society. 

Am I pissed off? YES I am, so now I look to blame. I think not only do we blame the system that failed Jennifer, but we blame the entire village here. People I have trusted to educate, protect and serve it turns out are people who were influenced by celebrity and I blame all of them. Yet that won't bring Jennifer Martel back, will it? 

No it won't and there is blood on a lot of hands today. And this time it's not going to be so easy to just wash it away. I say it's about time. 

Death Of A Superstar

News of L'Wren Scott's suicide comes after the 49 year old designer was found yesterday morning in her New York apartment by her assistant. L'Wren Scott, by all reports, was a fashion superstar. Her high end fashion line bearing her name was a red carpet staple amongst A-list celebs like Madonna, Nicole Kidman and Amy Adams. Her love life was A-list too. She was the long time girlfriend of the one and only Mick Jagger. Sources report that the two were very much together at the time of her death and Jagger is said to be "devestated" by the news.

On the surface, everything looked to be as if she was living a dream. A successful fashion house known in celebrity circles, a rock star boyfriend (some would argue the ULTIMATE rock star boyfriend) the perfect picture of success and someone who had achieved rank to the pinnacle of her profession. "Picture" being the operative word. What we now know is that that picture was a facade. Truth be told L'Wren Scott had been plagued with financial woes lately and her company was rumored to be at least $6 Million in debt.

I am touched by her death on so many levels:

• As a woman closer to her age than not
• As a business woman-trying to achieve that "brass ring" in my profession
• As a person who envied her life from the outside looking in

I wonder how deep and dark her personal issues got, to make her take her own life. Loosing face in an industry that she was so well respected had to be devastating, but not uncommon. She certainly was not the first to face financial trouble and unfortunately she won't be the last. The sad truth is the line between success and failure is all to close in many professions. How bad does it have to be? How does one get to that desperate point?  

My thoughts and prayers go out to her loved ones...yet she continues to dominate my thoughts. I'm sorry she felt that desperate and I wonder if something could have been done to prevent her death. I guess we will never know. 

The Ultimate Gleek

Hey Bloggers..

Sorry about Friday and yesterday. I went to Nantucket with my peeps for "a little nonsense now and then, which is relished by the best of men." I just made it to the airport on Friday morning by the skin of my teeth and had limited access to Internet all weekend. Ahhh the life of a working woman. 

While I was there, I heard the tragic news of Corey Monteith's passing at the age of 31. I immediately knew it had to be drugs and demons, although at this time that has not been confirmed. What else would take a young man so soon?

Why? What happened? And how will Glee ever be the same? Truth be told, I hardly watched this season because I work too damn much and my leisure time on the sofa usually ends up with me passed out cold within 5 mins. But I watched enough to fall madly in love with the show and Mr Monteith's character, Finn Hudson. What a tragedy. What a waste of a completely life of a young man who seemingly had the entertainment/career world by the kahunas. 

So I have to ask, how does a TRAIN WRECK like Amanda Bynes stay alive while Corey is gone? 

Don't get me wrong, I don't wish Amanda Bynes' death at all. On the contrary, I hope Amanda figures her problems out and regains her star status because I think she's a real talent. But you have to admit that her behavior lately is somewhat of a blueprint for deadly disaster. So how did Corey slip through the cracks? Sources report that Corey and Leah were madly in love and that he was cleaning up his act for good. 

Terrible, terrible, terrible, which is what we should say when we loose someone so young too soon. There will truly be one less voice to warm our hearts this fall when the show that made him a superstar returns to TV.

And a lot less Glee.

Fade To Black

• He will always be remembered as Tony Soprano. With yesterday's news of the passing of actor James Gandolfini in Rome, Italy (how fitting) at the young age of 51, it's as if Tony Soprano got whacked. And now we will never know what really happened after that "fade to black" moment at the end of the series finale of "The Sopranos". It seems so tragic that the actor's life was cut so short. Somehow, Tony Soprano had more to do. In a way, he was every man's Tony Soprano. 

• Strange goings on here involving New England Patriots tight end Aaron Hernandez. Police found the body of a 27 year old Dorchester man who was shot in a car less than a mile from Aaron Hernandez's North Attleboro home. The car the man was found in was rented to the Patriot's tight end Hernandez. Police later spent hours searching the Hernandez home. He has not been named a suspect in the ongoing investigation...yet. Discuss...

• I'm exhausted from staying up watching all the Bruin's overtime games! We lost a tough one last night, but the B's comeback to put the game into overtime showed heart and courage and skill!! I'm enjoying every minute of it and I predict a cup VICTORY!!

• "Kimye" baby, spawn of Kanye West and Kim Kardashian still has no name! Or no name that we know of yet. Which is HA-LARIOUS! This whole "we need privacy please" thing is just not working for them. The Kardashian's would have an enema on TV if it meant lots of dollar$$$ and now Kimmy has decided that she and Kanye's baby are going into hiding? I can't say I blame her. This is the way it should be. All I'm saying is the machine that is Kardashian will put pressure on Kimmy to have baby in the spotlight more often, causing Kanye to back away from Kimmy even more than he already has, leaving Kimmy alone as a single mom.  AND I also predict that "Donda" will appear somewhere in baby Kimye's name. (Donda was Kanye's mom's name. She passed during a routine cosmetic procedure in 2007)

Please, discuss amongst yourselves..

Beloved Boston

I wasn't there.

Neither my kids nor my husband were there. We were all safe.

She in NYC, is the one who alerted me of the events via text. He, safe on the golf course with my dad, 70 miles away from the war zone. My husband ensconced safely at his desk and I, enjoying a rare day off with my mom.

I wasn't there, but I could have easily been there like I had so many years before.
I can only share with you how most of us Bostonian who live here felt when the first waves of info came in:

It was 3:15, and I'm shopping at Neiman Marcus in a local suburb. Frick texted me. It read, "Mom, did a bomb go off at the marathon?" "Are u there?" "No."I replied." H/O"

I stopped, and searched the web on my iPhone. I googled Boston Marathon 2013. Nothing. I searched some more nothing. I then searched "bomb at Boston Marathon." I found the footage. I clicked on to the raw video and heard the news that a bomb had gone off at the finish line of the Boston Marathon. The report  said it was a, "horrific scene". It went on to describe bloodied streets and loss of limbs and I immediately went into safety mode. I started mentally checking off my family members.

That's what everyone that lives here did.

The first text was sent to my best friend. She lives in Boston and is an avid runner. I knew the answer before I finished typing the text, so I immediately placed a call to her seconds after I pressed the send button. I couldn't wait. She answered, "I'm ok." She was crying.
"Thank God," I said. "Were you there?"

"Can," she said between sobs. "I was right there. I had just decided that it was getting cold and that I had shit to do and that it was time to go home." "I felt the blast behind me and turned to see the smoke."
I was so glad she was ok. So glad she was safe. So shocked that she had been so close. She hadn't even called her mom. I let her go, telling her I loved her and to call her mom.

Then I went over the familial list:
I come from a large family and the majority of us are 20-50. Prime Marathon viewing years. The texts began furiously. While I was walking through the store, word got out and people everywhere could be seen either talking on their smartphones or looking at their smartphones. I drove home because no one really wanted to NOT be in front of a TV at this point and we listened to Boston Sports radio, which turned into news talk on the ride home. It was an uneasy next few hours as we awaited word on the family safety. It wasn't until 6:15 that we knew for sure that both my 26 immediate family members were ok and my husband's 11 members were safe. We were lucky.

Then the worst news of all came.

3 people had died and one of them an 8 yr old boy.

Hundreds of people had been injured. It was worse than we could have imagined. I felt at that moment that life had changed.

We were glued to the TV for the rest of the night as I'm sure you were too.

Trying to make the best of a horrid day which was no happy holiday after all.

Heroine In Heaven

Nora Ephron has left the building.

And while I never knew the woman who would turn out to be the essayist, Oscar nominated screen writer and movie director of a generation, I knew her well. Or should I say she knew us well, the "us" being women everywhere. Norma had a unique gift. She could see it then she could write about it.

She could write the hell out of anything and she caught the attention of people in her profession early in her career at The Post. When she fell into Hollywood, quite by mistake, Ephron's prose was so real and funny that it was hard not to see her genius. She turned her divorce from Watergate journalist, Carl Bernstein into literary and Hollywood gold with her novel "Heartburn", which was turned into a screen play and she never looked back. Not bad when you have Meryl Streep and Jack Nicholson playing out your life story. Her many screen writing credits brought her the opportunity to direct and in 1993, she landed her first hit with "Sleepless In Seattle".

She continued to succeed as woman in the exclusive boys club in Hollywood and her credits are impressive. "When Harry Met Sally", "You've Got Mail" and "Julie & Julia" to name a few. Oh, to be a fly on the wall in the mind of Nora's genius. Today, as I read the articles and obits on this legendary lady, one specific essay stands out. Interesting that it was not written for Hollywood or for publication. It was written as a Commencement Address to the 1996 graduates of Wellesley College, her  alma mater. She talked about how upon her entrance to Wellesley, in the fall of 1958, there had been an article in the Harvard Crimson stereo typing women's colleges. Wellesley, it said, was a school for tunicata-(a fish who spend the beginnings of life swimming around exploring the ocean and the second part of life lying on the ocean floor breeding). Nora went on to recall how 25 years later, everyone of her classmates still remembered the definition of the tunicata.

Long story short, the world of Wellesley in those days so long ago, taught Nora and her classmates that they were in college attendance to marry success not achieve success. It would seem that Nora made a career out of proving them wrong. Be your own heroine.

And those words certainly resonate with me.

In closing her Commencement Address Nora said this, and I will remember this always and make it a mantra:

"Whatever you choose, however many roads you travel, I hope that you choose not to be a lady. I hope that you will find some way to break the rules and make a little trouble out there. And I hope that you will choose to make some of that trouble on behalf of women."

Only The Good Die Young

I got some news last night that was just shocking.

We were at Frick's boyfriend's (yup, Hairball's back in picture) graduation party, enjoying the festive evening. I'm talking in a circle with about 4 other senior moms chatting and laughing, when I feel my cell phone vibrate in my back pocket. I had my cell with me only because Frick was at a call back for an audition for a show she's going to do this summer and because it was making her late for Hairball's party, she was freaking out texting me every five minutes to let me know she would be another 10 minutes, another 20 mins, etc.

This time I figured it was Frick, and mid conversation I pulled my phone out of my pocket and saw a text from the woman I do business together with at the store. It read, quite simply, that "The Long Talker"  had suffered a massive heart attack and died yesterday. I must have gasped quite loud, because the women I was speaking with all turned to me and asked if I was OK. I couldn't speak for a moment. I felt numb. It seriously hit me like a ton of bricks and I simply turned my cell phone around to show them the text. I regained my composure and continued on with the conversation, but I was only half there.


I couldn't get The Long Talker out of my mind.


Now, since I wrote the about The Long Talker some three years ago, he has become a good friend. I have not worked with him in over two years, but I continued to see him quite regularly. He continued to work for my friend in her store and he worked for my parents last Christmas. The Long Talker, while he could talk starving dogs off a meat truck, was one of the sweetest human beings in the world. He was a deeply religious and spiritual man, and was both caring and giving to all who he came in contact with.


The Long Talker was one of the good ones.


He was a genius in his work, but was not a fan of the technological revolution and I think it hurt him down the road. I noticed a change in him last January 2011. He lost his beloved dog, and he never regained that jovial smile he once had. I mentioned it to our co-workers and they all agreed. Something was lost. I'm not sure what, but The Long Talker had lost a step. Even in his work. Looking back now, 2011 was not a good year for him, as he had a falling out with my friend, but I continued to keep up with him, even though he was not doing day to day business with us any longer.  

His wife said that yesterday he was gardening outside and came in to the house, not feeling well. He went to get a glass of water, sat down to drink it and dropped dead right there. He had just turned 60 years old. I'm devastated, really. You never know how important a person is in your life until you realize you will never see him/her again. I hope he is at peace now, and his jovial smile has returned to his sweet face. May God bless his soul and keep him in his good grace. I pray for his family to have the strength to endure life without him.

He was truly one of the good ones.

Crack is Wack Part II

I have to admit that since Whitney's death I have been reading everything and anything that pops up about the tragic and troubled diva. I didn't even know that I cared that much, but apparently I do. What's even more tragic is that I'm about to admit that I have recently been watching YouTube episodes of Bravo's now defunct reality show, "Being Bobby Brown". It's like research and I just need to get a glimpse into what went on in their lives so that I can make sense of the train wreck of it all.

And you do get a glimpse of it, if not all of it on that show. So when Yesterday's news came out about Bobby Brown being homeless, broke and living out of his car, it just didn't sit well with me.

Ok, so Bobby Brown was broke and homeless after Whitney kicked his broke-ass outta her house and went to rehab to clean up her act. Why is this big news? We didn't just go to school to eat lunch cuz we all know where the $$ came from. The fact is that Whitney's fortune, at one time estimated to be $240 million, was dwindling. (cuz $240 mil can buy you a lot of rock for a real long time)Which means that Whitney cut him loose to try and save her sinking ship.

I am not saying that Bobby was the degenerate drug addict in the relationship or that Whitney's life was ruined because of his influence on her drug use. On the contrary, I fully believe that Whitney was the real addict here and that Brown was a man who did what he always did to get by. He smoked, he snorted, he ingested, he drank, he ate and he did it all on his wife's dime. It was Whitney who had the real love affair with the pipe. We may never know what the whole truth is and who says we need to.

But the fact that Brown's money troubles and homelessness after his divorce are big news today puzzle me. We already knew this, and if you live in Boston like I do, its no surprise. In the past decade, Brown has been sentenced to jail for non support of his children who live here at least twice and he was always in the news for being in court to answer deadbeat dad charges. Bobby and the Massachusetts court system are like peas and carrots, so why the sudden, "woe is me" PR. What's his motive?

While Whitney isn't around anymore to tell him to, "kiss my ass!" and refute the crap he will undoubtedly be spewing, I'm betting the business man in Brown ain't no fool. He sees $$$ all over this because of people just like me. We have absolutely no right to know the truth, yet we have the deepest desire to know the truth and we comprise a market that will spend money on it. Sad but true.

I'm thinking that Bobby Brown's homeless days are over, and I think he has his deceased x-wife to thank for a big part of that. I'm also hoping he cleans his act up and does something good beside impregnating women and then leaving them broke and penniless. But that might be too much to ask for a guy who just does what he does to get by. I also pray that his daughter, Bobbi Christina gets the help she needs to clean up her act too. According to Bobby Brown he was her primary caretaker.

Is there a pattern here?

Dreamy Davey Jones

Aw crap, we lost another one that made me wistfully sad to see 'em go. I felt that way when I heard about Davey.

I used to worship The Monkees. I watched that show faithfully everyday on Channel 56. I remember it was wedged somewhere between the Banana Splits and the Brady Bunch and I never missed it. Mike, Mickey, Peter and Davey were the dreamy foursome that captured the hearts and the imaginations of generations of kids. What's funny is that I was just born when the Monkees TV show originally aired and was just 2 when it ended. Thanks to the magic of syndication, a whole new generation of kids like me were able to watch and enjoy The Monkees.

And Davey? He was my favorite. He had those teen heartthrob looks and a killer smile all wrapped up in a pint size package with an adorable British accent. I had more that a few pictures of Davey on my bedroom wall. The Monkees will always hold the best of memories for me.

The group was criticized for being a band formed around a TV show and for not having the chops of a group that had been together for years. What did they know? 45 years later their music still stands and plays on major radio stations around the country and when Diane Sawyer reads your obituary on World News Tonite, I guess you can say you did something right.

At 66, Davey was taken much too young, but somewhere up in heaven today there are a few more Daydream Believers than there were yesterday.